


The Ace Club

by murphys_law (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe: After High School, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Dark Past(s), Falling In Love, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, M/M, Past Injury, Pole dancer!Kenma, Sexual Tension, Tags Are Hard, Writer!Kuroo, read author's notes for additional information/warnings/hints!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-29
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:33:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4893121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/murphys_law
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Kuroo's final year of high school, things crashed down all around for him and Kenma. They've went their separate ways, but when they meet again after almost two years, they begin to try and rekindle their friendship. However, Kuroo and Kenma have changed and things can never be the same as they were before, which only leads to two possibilities: things can become much better, or much worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dusk Room

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work here! I hope to update this and make a habit out of it, but please forgive me if I take long amounts of time to update! I've never published anything on a website before, either. Hope you enjoy it! More important notes at the end.

Every room in The Ace Club looked like a different time of day, the only constant being the fog that hung in the air and smelled heavily of fruits and other sorts of perfumes. At least that’s what the long hallway consisted of. There was a separate door when he entered the building, at the end of a descending set of stairs, that led to the actual club area, where electronic rhythms and bass boomed, and colorful flickering lights shone from the door’s cracks.

_I shouldn’t be here. I should be trying to write. Not to mention...I’m broke, thank God the guide hasn’t asked me for payment...maybe he pities me. Maybe I should pay after. I’ve never even done this before I’m so stupid..._

He stared in front of him at the person leading him down the hall. The guy was nice, and the twinkle in his eyes when he immediately guessed he was there because of a break up hinted that he was taking him somewhere hopefully therapeutic. 

“What’s your name, sir?” he had asked him, the twinkle prevalent in his eyes.

He had run his fingers through his perpetual bedhead, sighing out, “Tetsurou Kuroo.”

“Aaand what brings you here, tonight? Oh, wait, don’t say it yet, let me _guess_ ,” he had clicked his tongue and pressed a pen to his temple, “ _a break up?_ Well...for a handsome young man like you, we should have just the cure.”

Kuroo was shocked then, but now he was just naming off the times of day of each room that he passed. Afternoon, probably on a sunny day, when kids go out and play. Midnight, with some stars peeking out here and there. The guide had stopped to stare into the room that looked like midnight; Kuroo knew the room looked appealing, but it wasn’t exactly what he was wanting...not that he actually knew what he wanted. The only other door looked like morning time, a time he resented as of late, but the other doors were closed and bass-filled music hummed from behind doors. The guide was still pondering on the midnight room and Kuroo felt a little bubble of irritation in his gut.

It brought back many, many unwanted memories. He was starting to regret even bothering, but he still followed the guide down the hallway when he finally rejected the room with a dismissive wave. Kuroo glanced to his right and noticed a certain warmth glowing from one room. A dark, velvet purple haze with strips of comforting orange and blotches of a calming pink. The room’s glow was beautiful on its own.

“Dusk,” he said aloud, staring dead at the room’s entrance. Billowing, but thin fog rolled from the doorway and smelled absolutely mouthwatering. “This one is dusk.

The guide stopped and turned around, “Hm? D’you say something?” he asked Kuroo.

Kuroo shook his head, but pointed to the room with a half-assed raised finger. “This room. I want this one."

When he looked at the guide, who hadn’t responded, he rose an eyebrow in question. His face looked sly and seemingly understanding. His lips were turned into a small grin, and the twinkle in his eyes had intensified to a small spark. His other eyebrow rose when the guide stared at him without replying for the longest time with the same sly expression.

“Why...why are you looking at me like that?” Kuroo asked him.

“Have you been here before?” the guide asked him, motioning for him to enter the room. Kuroo hesitated and stopped right when he was underneath the door’s frame.

“No, I haven’t.”

The guide snickered and held his hand to his mouth, smirking. The spark died down to that twinkle again, “Well, Kuroo, you are in for a treat. I’ll tell the performer someone handsome has come by for all of his services, you just wait in the comfy armchair over there.”

“I don’t want any actual services,” Kuroo rushed out, but he was shushed by a wink and a finger to his lips. He nearly groaned in despair. He hoped that he wouldn’t relay _that_ message, he wasn’t here for that...here was here for...

The guide reached in and grabbed the doorknob. Kuroo moved out of the way and the door was closed soon after. The atmosphere soon turned to one of anticipation. A treat. Kuroo was in for a treat, apparently. He turned around, slowly, taking in the dusk that was displayed in the colors. Rays of dark purple, orange, and pink burst from patterned lights on the ceiling; there was a small square in the middle, then a larger one in the next layer, and so forth. Kuroo even noticed how the fog seemed to form a swirling path leading to the armchair set in front of a small stage with a pole at its center.

The armchair was red and sitting down in it felt like he was being swallowed by a marshmallow. Leaning back was even more comfortable. He almost closed his eyes, but he probably would’ve fallen asleep, so he jarred them open and leaned forward. He traced his eyes along the colors that were warped in the pole’s shiny reflection until a sudden boom of bass sent a shock through him.

If he wasn’t awake, he was now. Not to mention, Kuroo usually didn’t do this. As a matter of fact, Kuroo _never_ did this. Which led him back to the question he had formed in his mind: why was he here, anyway?

A break up, a stupid break up, he’d already established it was a break up, that’s why he was sitting in this room. Or was it something else? Was it something deeper, something with greater meaning? Kuroo tensed up. He shoved his hands on his face and groaned into them. This was such a stupid, stupid, on-the-whim, spur of the moment idea. He couldn’t do this.

He grabbed the arms of the chair and pushed himself up when a calm, almost _bored_ voice came from a corner of the room.

“I hope you don’t mind if I have the lights dimmed down a little. It’s hard to dance when the lights are shining in my eyes.”

Kuroo gulped and sat back down. There was a figure standing by a door (he hadn’t even bothered to actually take a look at the room besides the obvious features), a figure in tight, really tight shorts, and hair in front of his face. Now that Kuroo had someone else to look at it, he realized how thick the fog actually was, as well as how saturated the color of the lights were. He couldn’t tell the person’s hair color at all, though it seemed to be black.

Then he remembered he had to respond. “I don’t mind, no. And besides, you’re the performer, does it really matter what I say?” he found himself rambling on.

He could’ve sworn he heard a small, small chuckle. Bass boomed just a little louder. Suddenly, there was a snap of the fingers from the same corner. Almost simultaneously, the lights dimmed down, angling down more toward the small stage.

“You’re new at this.”

Kuroo blushed, and even though there was no possible way he could be seen with his reddened cheeks and grumpy expression, he felt embarrassed and grumpily stated, “No, I’m not.”

Kuroo eyed the performer as he walked up a few stairs, from what he could tell, and onto the stage. He noticed that there was an increase in fog as well, which was odd, there’s no reason for that, right?

“Whatever. It doesn’t really matter.” The calmness...the utter indifference of the voice was chilling. It sent shivers down Kuroo’s spine, and that wasn’t even the real reason. It was because he could’ve sworn, after hearing those very words, that he’d heard this voice before. “I need to get on with the show. My name is Neko, and I’ll be providing you with this dance. Please, do enjoy the show.”

The music had stopped and Kuroo gulped, leaning back against the quicksand cushion on the chair. His head sunk in and his eyes were wide, watching Neko’s hand fluidly grasp the pole. The only thing he had time to think was how he hoped it was just a dance he was providing him with, because the guide surely didn’t give him the time of day to clarify otherwise.

As soon as the bass kicked in again, Neko began to dance. Loosening his grip and barely touching his fingertips against the metal, he made his way in a slow circle around the pole, making Kuroo’s heart race. His hands gripped tightly at the arms of the chair, he still thought it was wrong, but now he felt that anticipation again.

All it took was one second, one second, for Kuroo to have his breath drawn from his body. Neko trailed his fingers higher before slowly closing one finger at a time. A voice sang in the background and Neko’s body seemed to flow with the voice, and in that moment, seeing the fluidity of the way his body twirled and moved like water itself, Kuroo was drawn in, the fog finally clearing. He didn’t even see it happen, Neko adding a second hand to the pole, flipping himself with such ease, replacing his hands with his thighs. His back rested against the pole, hands on the pole again and descending down it, at a very slow pace.

Kuroo was amazed, his heart racing against his chest, gulping as he saw Neko’s back arch off the metal, his hands raising to his chest, and trailing up his body, to the hem of his shorts. Kuroo could feel his hand go up to his face, in awe and also in nerves.

One of his slender legs moved from holding him up to hooking around the pole, causing him to fall forward. Neko grabbed the metal before his face even came close to touching it and his body moved like water again. Kuroo was having a hard time believing that what he was seeing was only worth fifteen to thirty bucks.

This boy and his body and his movements were pure art, not to mention the eerie, residual feeling of familiarity as he watched the boy move. His slender legs wrapping and unwrapping around the metal, his hands grasping and letting go, the body and the way it stretched itself, maybe it was just the break up screwing with his head, but he swore he knew this boy.

Kuroo was sweating with nerves, so much so he that he even fiddled with his collar, ran his fingers through his hair, placed his hand on his chin from time to time, he was so nervous. He was attracted to him, definitely attracted to the way he twirled and danced and his body rolled during some of the fluid transitions.

As he recalled, he only asked for one song, but the song seemed to be lasting forever. His foot was absentmindedly tapping to each boom of bass in the room and his eyes followed every effortless twirl. Neko was upside down along the pole, his torso stretched in a curve, legs in a split above, effortlessly holding himself still with one hand on his ankle and the other holding him to the metal. In that moment, the colors of the room were displayed across the skin of his body and his legs, the black hair in curtains, the breath pulsing through his chest.

Kuroo’s body was still, too, for the first time, watching in awe. Then, ever so slowly, one leg descended and the other joined it, coming together in a slow twirl of dusk. He then came to a stop, his body behind the pole, head bowed with both hands clasped tightly on the metal. He was out of breath, his chest heaving as his head was bowed. If only Kuroo could see his face.

Then, he noticed the song had ended. The song was actually over. His heart plummeted a little, and his throat cleared on its own. He immediately reached into his pocket and drew out the only money he had. It was exactly thirty dollars. He wasn’t sure of the price of the dance at all but he’d give Neko all the money he had for the art he just witnessed. Thankful there was no extra “servicing”, he got up from the chair and made his way up to Neko.

He’d never done this sort of thing before, which is why it all went wrong. He hopped on the stage and stood in front of the boy, whose head was still bowed down. By this time, his hands had fallen to his sides.

“Uh, wow,” Kuroo breathed out, staring at the money in his hand. He held his hand out and waited. “That was amazing.”

Neko reached a hand out, almost timidly, and took the money. He put it in the waistband of his shorts, which Kuroo eyed a little guiltily, and sighed. “Thanks.” There went that indifferent tone again.

When he looked up, Kuroo had to take a moment, just a small, really small moment to process the heart attack that was going through his body. Cat eyes. Golden, best-friend-from-childhood cat eyes.

The dancer had backed away and his mouth had widened. Kuroo’s hands flew to his face and he just froze where he stood.  After a small moment of pure silence, pure tension, the air buzzing and ringing between them, Kuroo’s hands fell to his side.

“ _Kenma!?_ ” he exclaimed, his voice raising so high in volume.

Neko. _Neko_. _Nekoma_. Their old school. It all made sense, and yet it didn’t. He should’ve recognized him, Kenma _is_ his best friend after all, right?

Kenma’s face burned red and he fiddled with the back of his neck. Turns out, he was fiddling with a well put on wig, and he yanked off the black wig to reveal blond hair and darkened roots. Kenma was backing away slowly from Kuroo.

“I thought it was you but...but this is my job, I,” Kenma’s voice went through his body like electricity, a voice he hadn’t heard for so long. Before Kuroo could even respond, Kenma was dashing away, down the stairs of the stage, and to the door. He was clutching at his chest with his head turned away.

Weakly, Kuroo reached his hand out to him, his mouth agape and his heart beating uncontrollably. Kenma. The boy he was so attracted to, the boy who was water and wind, the boy he hadn’t seen since high school ended, the boy with the same hairstyle and the same hair colors, the boy was Kenma.

What was Kuroo to do besides fall to his knees in utter confusion? He put his head in his hands and cursed his life. First the injury in high school, then his fight with Kenma, then his faulty relationship that led to an inevitable break up, and now this? Kuroo was so confused, so, so confused, and a mixture of emotions welled inside of him.

When Kenma didn’t return and the room began to fill with the foggy substance once more, he stood, wavering a little. So many thoughts and situations along with a poison cocktail of toxic emotions flowed through him as he stepped down and toward the door; barely making it there while tripping over his own two feet, he threw the door open, stepping into the different air in the hallway which hit like ice against his hot skin. He felt faint.

One thing is for sure: Kuroo felt worse leaving The Ace Club than when he arrived.


	2. The Past is in the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will seem like somewhat of a filler chapter, but it's not, I promise. I'm truly sorry if it's not up to par with the first chapter, I've never done this before and I'm sort of rushing myself to complete the chapters! If you'd prefer to wait for more quality writing, I can do that! But if you'd like fast updates, I'll try my best to please you guys! After all, it's the least I could do since people are actually bothering to read this, which I am grateful for! Anyway, enjoy the chapter and comment what you thought about it! I'll fix whatever mistakes in the next chapters.

“Fired?” Kuroo repeated on the phone.

The voice on the other side of the phone was the manager of a corner store a few blocks over. “Yeah! You heard me, you’re fired!”

Kuroo held the phone in front of his face, staring at it as though it were an alien object. “You mean...I’m _fired_ fired, like, _really_ fired?” he asked, still staring at the phone. He put it back to his ear only to hold it back farther and lean his head the opposite way.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes! You missed work for an entire week! You are _fired_!” his boss yelled frantically.

Kuroo held the phone tighter and growled through gritted teeth. He could practically feel a vein in his forehead pop up he was so angry. Then, he snapped. “ _Fine!_ I’m fired, huh? Well, good luck finding another worker that worked as hard as me!"

His finger smashed the “End Call” option and he angrily tossed the phone across the bed. It bounced off the bed’s surface and landed on the hardwood floor. _I don’t care, that job wasn’t paying enough anyway!_ Kuroo yelled in his head. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, in a loose t-shirt and shorts, his head groggy and filled with frustration. He thought about the point his boss had made and came to the rational thought that he maybe he shouldn’t have missed an entire week of work.

Still, it was hard to get out of bed lately, and since he was consumed with writer’s block and inescapable depression, he didn’t even want the motivation to try. All that had been on his mind, in his dreams, flashing behind his eyelids every time he closed them...was Kenma. The oddest part of it was that it wasn’t the incident at The Ace Club that repeated itself to the point it was sickening.

What Kuroo saw was flashbacks, their childhood, like the times he forced Kenma to practice with him and was impressed when Kenma actually tried to play volleyball and ended up doing good receives. He thought about how Kenma was literally always engaged in some sort of video game when he wasn’t playing volleyball and wasn’t in class. If it wasn’t his handheld distraction machine that sometimes angered Kuroo to no end (because Kenma paid more attention to the game than to him) it was his phone. He thought about how Kenma did everything in his power to avoid other human beings. He, adoringly, thought about the moment he introduced Kenma to the Nekoma volleyball team; Kenma hid behind Kuroo’s body a little, his black hair falling in front of his face as he waved nervously, avoiding all eye contact.

Kuroo smiled a little, remembering that little bit. Confused yet again, Kuroo wondered how in the hell Kenma could’ve possibly ended up at a place like The Ace Club. Clubs were places that thrived and depended on many, many people fueling business. Clubs like that, especially, depended on people erotically persuading other people for business. Kenma...Kenma didn’t…

His back hit the sheets of the bed and he closed his eyes. It didn’t make sense, and he couldn’t see any situation in which Kenma would be happy at The Ace Club. A job that requires dancing and consistent, not to mention human, attention just didn’t fit Kenma.

Or maybe it did, maybe Kenma changed and did really like his job. He was just so confused and after remembering that he was literally _just_ fired, he forced the thoughts of Kenma to leave him.

_I really need a job or else I’ll be thrown out of this apartment. I really like this one, too. And if I get thrown out of this one, it’ll be the second time and then it’ll be even harder for me to get another apartment. Gah, I’m screwed!_

In his mind he was nearly screaming but he shoved himself from the bed and trudged to the shower. In the shower, he let the cold water wake him up, and then the hot water calm him down. Refreshed as best as he could be in his restless, yet sluggish state, Kuroo began to rummage through his closet. With little to no effort at all, he chose a black, long sleeve v-neck shirt and a random pair of blue jeans.

He almost thought about trying to do something with his hair but the thought of even _attempting_ it drained a small amount of his already depleted energy.

He stopped in the middle of his bedroom. Glancing at the desk, and the small shoulder bag beside of it, he caved in. He shoved his notebook and pens inside, leaving his laptop, and even his earbuds. If there was any sudden urge to write down ideas or even begin writing a story, he’d take it. Preparation was just consideration, but he also considered the alternative: nothing coming to him.

With a resting bitch-face, Kuroo left his apartment. After locking it, he put the key in his pocket and then furrowed his brows. Something else was in his pocket. He drew out the item and found himself smiling. Rather than being one item, it was items, plural, and it was money.

He actually had a little bit of money again, which meant he could get food to energize later on his job hunt. With a little bit of luck on his side, he began to search for a replacement job.

 

***

 

Turns out, the money was the only luck Kuroo was gifted. He had visited many places that said they were hiring but most of them required skills he didn’t have or didn’t have enough practice in. Was Kuroo surprised? No. No he was not.

“Do you know electrical work, son?” one man had asked him. He was in a restaurant, and the manager had asked him about electrical work.

“No?” was the only response he could come up with. The man just scoffed, snarled a little, and waved him off. Kuroo felt his nerves being pricked and his eye twitch.

“Then you’re not needed!” he barked at Kuroo.

Pushing down his urge to bark himself, Kuroo simply replied with, “But isn’t this a restaurant, why would I need to know electrical work?” his eye still twitched a little.

The man, with his half-bald head and a face as red as a tomato, explained it with a really nasty attitude.

“Kid, the stoves and the ovens and the fryers aren’t working that well! We need electricians and mechanics and people of the like to help! We already got us some cooks! We also need baskets for the fryers, now, if you wanna buy them for us we could reimburse you,” the half-bald man offered.

What did Kuroo do? He left, that’s what. His temper dictated that he should do so. He didn’t have any luck with the other places he visited either. He found a restaurant that actually needed a cook, but he realized that his cooking skills were rusty when he was taken back into the kitchen.

After naming off dishes that he’d only heard of being served in very, very exquisite places, the owner of the very, very exquisite restaurant turned to him. “Can you cook those dishes? If so,” his face lit up and he leaned over, his face getting in Kuroo’s, a little too close. Kuroo leaned away. “If so, you’re definitely hired!” he exclaimed happily.

The man was nice, nicer than the other guy that’s for sure, but he couldn’t even remember the names let alone cook the contents behind the names. Kuroo’s head drooped and shook. “No, sir, I can’t, I know some dishes, but not those,” he raised his head, sighing.

The owner’s enthusiasm left his face and was replaced with despair. “Oh, and I thought we were in luck!” he exclaimed dramatically.

That definitely threw Kuroo off, but yet he still replied with, “I’m very sorry. I’ll be leaving now,” he waved goodbye and walked out pretty discouraged.

Outside was a beautiful day, but to his tired eyes, the bright sun stung and laughed at his lack of sleep. Not to mention, he didn’t bring a jacket, and it was the beginning of the winter season. Every time he walked underneath a shadow cast by the mocking sun, he shivered more and more, and eventually crossed the street to the sidewalk where the sun was shining brightly just for a moment of relieving warmth. He just had to evade and look away from the sun, to his right, awkwardly staring into the shops and windows of restaurants he passed by.

It made him think of the days where he was definitely content, instead of living in the real world. His high school days, where looking in windows wouldn't have made him feel awkward. Sure, in high school they all say that the “real world” is scary and frightening, but they didn’t ever _prepare_ him for how horrible it was. He was injured in a volleyball game because he was just so desperate to win, he lost his best friend, lost a boy he was so sure he loved and probably was still in love with, and he probably, along the lines, lost himself.

_I really need to sleep more, these thoughts are way too depressing for me, and I’m not depressed, I’m just a little sad, that’s all. I’m not depressed. I’m just looking for a job, that’s all. Pick yourself up, Kuroo, you can find a job and then you can find…_

All Kuroo could hear was an audible smacking sound as he ran into something very vertical, and very flat, and very, very hard. He staggered back, struggling to get his balance under control. When he did, his dizzy head cleared and he stared in front of him. He had run directly into a wall of an awning over a bus stop bench.

He began to shake with frustration.

“Who puts these in the middle of the damn sidewalk, anyway!?” he exclaimed, getting the attention of everyone around him. He shook worse, thrusting a pointing finger at one of the onlookers.

“What are you looking at?” he snapped out. The man looked away and started whispering to someone who was probably his wife.

_Dammit!_

He averted his gaze from the people and began to walk again. He had no idea why he was still out anyway, no buildings had any help needed signs and he surely wasn’t going to actually _go in_ and ask if they needed help, he was too exhausted. He was forced to look back into the shops to avoid the bright sun once more, and he only made it three shops ahead when his footsteps came to a slow stop.

Staring inside a cafe, his arms fell limp at his sides. He laughed a little, turning to face the window completely. When he began to smile, he dropped it immediately. Maybe he was hallucinating, he couldn’t really be seeing Kenma in there, right? That wasn’t him, right? Or maybe it was one of those life things, where life shoves a person into a situation where the decision they make is one that determines their fate… Kuroo didn’t know, and all these radical ideas surged through his mind.

And for some unknown reason, he was taking steps backwards and pushing the door to the cafe open. The bell dinged and he kept his eyes only on Kenma, or maybe the illusion of him. Eventually, the only possibility he kept in mind was that maybe he was hallucinating. His lack of sleep could be fooling with his mind, and he’d probably, most likely, spontaneously combust if Kenma turned out to be someone else.

Light, calming, earthy green walls and the smell of delicious coffee and the happy customers were definitely real. The ding of another bell when an order was ready was real, and the waiter and waitress’ smiles were real, as well. The booths and chairs, the clean, shiny, sunlit tables were real, and the only question remained was if Kenma, who was hunched over the table with a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, was real.

The moment came and Kuroo stopped right in front of the table in which Kenma sat alone, headphones on his head, a jacket and shoulder bag beside him in the booth, and his gaze intent on his phone’s screen.

Kenma hadn’t changed a bit. Kuroo smiled endearingly at him, not realizing how creepy it was until Kenma noticed his presence and slowly met his gaze. He made himself smaller by compacting his body with tense shoulders and moving away a couple inches. A slow hand removed his headphones and placed them on the table.

Kuroo immediately dropped the adoring gaze and replaced it with one of utmost cheesy happiness. He smiled widely and closed his eyes. His hand had flown to the back of his head, rubbing it in embarrassment.

“You’re real!” he blurted. Kenma’s eyebrow rose and his mouth formed a straight line.

He hesitated, but responded with, “Yeah, and…?”

Kuroo sat down quickly across from him before it ended up like the bus stop incident with everyone in a fifty mile radius staring at him. “Oh, nothing, sorry, I was thinking out loud. I saw you in here and decided to join you, hope it’s not inconvenient?” he asked kindly.

Kenma shrugged, picking his phone back up. “Sure, I don’t mind.”

A smile struck Kuroo’s face. He didn’t want to waste Kenma’s time, or his own, or this chanceful encounter. “What are you up to? You usually avoid these places, anything that has to do with the general public really,” Kuroo chatted up.

Kenma looked up, those golden cat eyes of his burning into Kuroo’s like the sun itself. “Oh, well, uh, I was late for a bus to Tokyo, and this place has free Wi-Fi, so,” Kenma’s voice was low and he looked back down at his phone.

“What does free Wi-Fi have to do with anything?” Kuroo said, confused.

Kenma looked up and sighed. “Kuro, I can use the Wi-Fi to look up the bus schedule,” and for some reason Kenma looked like he was shocked. Kuroo felt kind of stupid, but was more concerned when Kenma coughed a little and let his hair fall in front of his eyes. He was yet again staring down at his phone.

One thing hadn’t changed between them, he still got slightly irritated when Kenma paid more attention to his phone than to him, in fact--- wait, Tokyo? Bus? What for?

He’d have to ease that in, he knew that much. “We’re both screwed, huh?” Kuroo said, leaning his elbow on the table and his head in his hand. Kenma glanced up, moving his blond hair from his face. His face asked the question for him.

“Well, you’ve missed a bus, and I got fired from a job this morning, we’re both stuck between a rock and a hard place,” Kuroo explained. He missed the ease of talking to Kenma. Still, there was something slightly off. His arm and knee began to ache, as a reminder of sorts, of the past. He brushed the pain away and leaned back again. The past is in the past, and he’d leave it there. He was beginning his new start with Kenma as of right now and he wouldn’t let anything stop him.

“You got fired?” Kenma asked him, his interest seemed to have been piqued.

Kuroo groaned and scoffed. “Yep, I missed work for an entire week, and…” he trailed off when he realized he was letting too much slip. Kenma wasn’t dumb, he’d know that it was exactly a week since the incident at The Ace Club. Kuroo cleared his throat.

“Anyway,” he said with a sly voice, playing it off as well as he could, “why are you going to Tokyo? I thought you hated big cities.”

Kenma’s mouth opened but then he hesitated. “Because,” he said sharply, staring back down at his phone. He looked so tense and uncomfortable. Kuroo thought about just leaving, but he decided to tough it out. The past is in the past. The past is in the past.

Sadness overwhelmed him at the instance, realizing that Kenma most likely didn’t think the way he did. So much for toughing it out. Overwhelming and mind-controlling, the sadness he felt toward the revelation caused him to ask something really, really stupid.

“Kenma,” he started. The blond looked up, confused at hearing his name. “How...how long have you been working there? How’d you get there?” Kuroo asked. Kenma had it written all over his stricken expression that he knew Kuroo was talking about The Ace Club.

He covered his mouth and his eyes widened in pure fear when Kenma froze up and looked at the table instead of his phone. He saw Kenma force a gulp, look back at his phone, scroll a little, and then start preparing to leave. Kuroo wanted to somehow get him to stay, but he’d said way too much, his questions overflowed one too many..

Just as it did at The Ace Club, his hand reached out pathetically, and he watched Kenma get up.

“My bus is getting here any time,” Kenma rushed out, shoving his jacket and shoulder bag on haphazardly. He rushed away from the booth after tossing down the right amount of money. Kuroo couldn’t just let him get away.

“Kenma!” he called out.

At the door, Kenma turned to him, holding his headphones just over his ears. He was hesitating greatly, but he eventually spoke some shocking words. “You...you got fired, right? Well...we have a position as a security guard at the club. You should come work there.”

Kuroo practically jumped at the words, they were so unexpected. The sun was shining so brightly upon Kenma’s face that he had to look away, but he could’ve sworn he saw Kenma smile a little. In his peripheral vision, he could see Kenma place his headphones over his ears and leave. After a while, Kuroo followed.

He saw a bunch of people boarding the bus to Tokyo. Except, to Kuroo’s absolute and heartbreaking demise, it wasn’t a bus to Tokyo. It was a bus to Yokohama.

Eyes drifting to the sidewalk, he felt tears well up a little and his sadness only deepen. He’d definitely pressed too far and forced Kenma to feel like he had to escape. But one thing was for certain: the possibility that Kenma probably felt the same way about what happened in the past, that it should be left in the past. Why else would he even tell Kuroo about the job opening at the club?

Kuroo, still saddened from his actions, managed a gloomy smile. He had to get that job, no matter what it took. He’d definitely get the job. All reasoning aside, since he couldn’t find any at all on the sidewalk in his state of sleeplessness, he felt the same way he would if here were about to play a volleyball game: determined.

 

***

 

Five days. It had been five days after his talk with Kenma in the cafe, two of which he practically slept through, and the time he was awake, he was working out in his apartment to relieve frustration. He didn’t know why, but upon coming home, flashbacks and memories and reasons he shouldn’t even bother Kenma flashed and invaded his mind like parasites.

Anger had filled him and put him to sleep, only to fuel him when he woke up to work out. He did push-ups on the hardwood flooring. He rested his feet underneath the bed to keep them flat while he did sit-ups. Fingers latched onto the doorframe to his bedroom, he did pull-ups, touching his chin to the doorframe as many times as possible, with minimum amounts of groaning from pushing himself too far.

Every time he was done with his workout, he’d drink so much water. Shockingly enough, Kuroo was also writing in the past five days. Although it wasn't stories he was writing, poems instead, it was good to be writing again, it was his new dream after all to get published eventually. He'd pretty much forgotten about that aspect of himself due to all the horrible things happening lately, but with the workouts providing a creative push, he recognized this dream all over again. He was sleeping too, which was definitely a plus. With the workouts exhausting him physically and providing a mental and emotional distraction with his writing, he could sleep well every night.

He was writing again, sleeping again, and keeping himself healthy. His nights were finally getting back to normal.

Except it was different this night, the night he stood in front of The Ace Club; the night he felt he was finally ready to try and get the job. He took a deep breath, his muscles sore from the anticipation. That was the sensation he associated most with this club, and he could feel the borderline excitement grow in his gut when he finally opened the door. An air of crushing familiarity hit him like bricks as soon as he stepped foot in the building.

He drew another deep breath, exhaling slowly. With a sharp turn to the right away from the descending staircase and approached the familiar guide he’d encountered before. Staring past him down the hallway that had started this all, he felt a gut-wrenching despair knowing that there was a chance, a big chance, that Kenma was in one of those rooms. Kenma was probably in one of those rooms, dancing for someone who wouldn’t appreciate the performance, the art that his body truly was, and have disgustingly greedy thoughts instead.

Kuroo had to gulp away the disgust he felt, the uneasy jealousy, and the overprotectiveness he was beginning to feel. A loud footstep sounded right at the podium where the guide stood. When he looked up at Kuroo, he was shocked, his eyes showing a hint of anger.

“Well, well, the handsome Kuroo has returned,” the guide said to him, his voice almost a hiss. He was unsure as to why the guide was taking such a harsh tone with him, but he wasn’t here to get into a quarrel.

He was here for something _far more important_.

Kuroo smiled slyly, his narrow eyes holding the twinkle this time. “A little _kitty_ told me there was a job opening, hm, what did he say? One of your security guards quit, right? I’m here to fill that spot,” and his smile widened when he saw the guide’s face fall to realization and almost disappointment.

The guide let out a breath of defeat. He walked out from behind the podium and right past Kuroo.

“Follow me,” he started, “and we’ll discuss the job in private.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Was it cliche, or cheesy, or just bad in general? Nevermind, I'm feeling a little iffy is all lol. The important questions are, will Kuroo get the job or not? Why did Kenma tell him about the job? And why wasn't Kenma shocked to see Kuroo at the cafe and why is he going to Tokyo? Does Kenma feel the same about what happened back then as Kuroo? Is Kuroo getting this job or not really the best thing for the both of them? And what happened back then, anyway, how bad was their falling out and what could've possibly caused it? Who knows, maybe you'll find out in later chapters :). Hope you liked it!

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't want to flood the tags, so I'll put the warnings for additional tags here: there will be hints at non-consensual content, though none of it will detailed or graphic. I could never do that, nor will the implications imply that it was severe, though anything non-consensual is triggering and disturbing. Dark past(s) seems vague, but I will give further warnings of the content if it could be triggering in any way in the beginning notes of the chapters! If this receives well, I will be posting more chapters and write more :)! Oh yeah, I added the same relationship twice because I wanted the slash and the ampersand, I know, I know, that's dumb lol... there are more relationships than just that, two more, one strained, one good! 
> 
> Also, I didn't add more characters because this is my first work and I can't handle doing a lot of characters right now :( sorry! However, if this receives well and I find a fitting purpose, I will add more characters and will say so within the notes and stuff, give you guys proper warning and hints :)! I don't know, this is my first time doing anything, so I'm not sure what to do, really, but this is what I'm comfortable writing right now so I'm leaving it at a few characters! If you have any complaints or compliments, please comment, and if I don't update for a while/don't come on the site for a while, come yell at me on Tumblr @katonitachi and I will heed your voices and hopefully pick my ass back up and work on this!


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